Following the fortunes of The Fall in the 30 years since they began in a Salford sitting-room, you feel they are less of a band, more a series of movies by the same director: the sole remaining founding member Mark E. Smith. How else to explain the changing membership, culminating in the latest revolution in the domestic fortunes of the world’s premier avant-garde garage rock band?
Four weeks before this 30th anniversary concert and halfway through their US tour three band members flew home, for reasons undisclosed, leaving Mr Smith and his wife (and Fall keyboardist) Elena Poulou behind.
As ever with this group, necessity is the mother of invention and The Fall acquired two guitarists and a drummer from a Chicago band and carried on. Incredibly, even for a band with a history of upheaval, by the time they reached Manchester they were ready to channel the spirit of the Sex Pistols, whose Manchester concert kick-started their career 30 years before. And I suspect even the band’s fanatically loyal but ever-cynical following were blown away by this latest incarnation of their heroes.
The drummer Orpheo McCord played as if his life depended on it, as did the guitarists Tim Presley and Rob Barbato. With cover versions from the drug- soaked 1960s (“Mr Pharmacist” and “I can hear the grass grow”) to stompers such as “Sparta FC” and several moments of Captain Beefheart-style genius, the crowd of 1,200 found much to celebrate.
Despite random accolades and Mark E. Smith’s often disdainful attitude towards them, The Fall occupy a singular place in British music history. In a space between the Stooges and Stockhausen, Smith’s world view holds sway. His world is often as uncomfortable for band members as for a casual listener: peppered with literary references, history lessons and righteous anger, especially towards the flabby middle class – leaving the Prestwich lad (aged 49) a bit of a cultural outcast.
After 30 years it is time to start showing some appreciation. Smith is a lot more than just a failed pop singer. ★★★★★
